


Code Word: Epsilon

by Wetislandinthenorthatlantic



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: #mollcroft, #pregnancy scare, #request, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly was under 24/7 surveillance and the staff who watched her from the dark control room in some non-descript building had been fully trained as to what to watch for -- matters of life and death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Code Word: Epsilon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mingsmommy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mingsmommy/gifts).



> This was a Mollcroft request! It is highly likely that part, or all of this will end up in my multi-chapter Mollcroft story. 
> 
> I don't own these characters. This work is purely for entertinment purposes.

Molly was under 24/7 surveillance and the staff who watched her from the dark control room in some non-descript building had been fully trained as to what to watch for -- matters of life and death. 

It was a grey Thursday afternoon. Molly had just popped out to the shops during her lunch break when Camera Monitor #173 spotted it and raised the alarm. 

His superior reviewed the CCTV tape and agreed. Anthea should be alerted. 

Anthea reached her before Molly was even half-way back to Barts. 

"I should have known you would see me," said Molly sheepishly. "Does he know?" 

"No. He doesn't," Anthea even managed to give her a comforting smile. 

 

Mycroft Holmes was in a meeting with the head of the IMF when the special alert tone sounded on his phone. He stopped in mid-sentence. "Please excuse me it's a matter of utmost urgency." Mycroft pulled out his phone to check the message.

The text contained a single word: Epsilon

The day he had feared most had arrived -- Epsilon -- the code word for a life or death situation involving Molly. Mycroft made his excuses and forced himself to walk, not run, to the car he knew would be waiting. He and his staff had drawn up plans, reviewed said plans and had drills. He knew what to do. Everyone knew what to do. 

At this very moment Anthea was gathering intel and would shortly advise Mycroft on his first course of action. 

She had the easy bit.

Mycroft had the hard part -- keeping his emotions in check in case he needed to negotiate for Molly -- for her life, for her everything. 

As he climbed into the back of his car, Mycroft reviewed the current watch list on his phone. He starred who he considered to be the top three likely candidates to cause some sort of altercation. 

It had started raining as his car sped through London – its destination still unknown to him. Mycroft sat in the back, staring, un-blanking out the window. He was using sheer force of will to keep horrific scenarios from playing out in his head. His phone buzzed and startled Mycroft back to reality.

It was an update from Anthea. 

SMS: Molly's flat. No perpetrators. Cameras off as you pass over the threshold.

Mycroft frowned. How could this be life or death if she was alone? 

All the blood drained from his face. 

His phone buzzed again. 

SMS: It's not suicide.

Mycroft allowed himself to breathe again. Sometimes he was desperately grateful Anthea could read his mind. 

Arriving at Molly's flat Mycroft took the ancient elevator to the fourth floor and slowly pushed the door, which was slightly ajar, open. Someone had known he was coming. His senses were heightened taking in everything in case this knowledge would be needed sometime soon. His eyes were scanning the room. Nothing looked out of place. No sign of struggle. 

And there she was -- sitting on the couch. Molly was wearing his old cashmere jumper -- the camel coloured one she had rescued from the charity shop pile. It was too big for her and had various holes but she loved it and (secretly) he loved to see her wear it. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around her legs. Her eyes wouldn't meet his. 

"Molly? What is happening." His voice was jagged and harsh. Mycroft approached her very slowly, his arms held out in front of him like he was expecting to find himself in hand to hand combat at any moment. 

"You can stop that. You aren't going to be ambushed." said Molly. 

"The code came through that you are in a life or death situation and I find you sitting on your bloody couch. Answer me. What is going on," Mycroft’s voice was raised. Full of adrenaline he was beginning to lose his cool. 

Molly looked down at the white bag on the coffee table in front of her. Mycroft snatched the bag off the table and looked in the open end. 

Mycroft stood rooted to the spot as he felt the world melt away around him. It contained a pregnancy test box. 

"Um. Technically your code thingy is correct because this can be considered a life or death situation. Just might be more life than death in this case." Molly gave a pensive smile. She remained in a small ball on the far side of the couch. 

Mycroft was staring at the box. For the first time in recorded history he was at a loss for words. He felt like he had been punched in the chest and was finding it difficult to remember to breathe. "Have you … ah …. have you..." The words struggled to come out of Mycroft’s mouth. 

"Oh. No. Not yet. Box is still sealed." Molly gave a half smile, still not able to look directly at Mycroft. "I, uh, went to Boots over my lunch break and Anthea caught up with me half-way back to work."

After a slight pause Molly continued, "She said I shouldn't be alone. You should be here." Then she added quietly, "That you would want to be here." 

Mycroft inhaled deeply and his composure returned. "Quite right too, " he said as he put the bag back down on the table and went to hang up his wet trench coat. 

He came back into the living room and sat on the other side of the couch. Mycroft desperately wanted to scoop Molly up in his arms but she looked so frightened like any sudden movement would cause her to flee. 

"You are a doctor," Mycroft’s normal tone of voice had returned. "If you suspected you were pregnant you could have done a test in your lab."

Molly shook her head and said quietly, “It didn’t seem right to do it that way. Maybe deep down I wanted to get caught so you would be here with me.” She took a shuddering, deep breath.

Molly was on the verge of tears. "I guess we should talk about this. We’ve never talked about this." 

"There is nothing to say. The time for discussion has passed. Talking now won't change the outcome of the test," although his words were hard his tone was gentle. Mycroft ever so slowly moved closer to Molly and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. 

"Molly you are either pregnant or you aren't. Once we know, then we can have a discussion. Before you do the test it is just supposition and conjecture." Mycroft's hand felt warm as he rubbed her shoulder. 

Molly let out a sigh, she knew he was right. "Okay." She took the box and went into the loo. As Molly was peeing on the stick she could hear Mycroft in the kitchen. 

When she returned Mycroft was sitting in the middle of the couch and a cup of tea was waiting for her on the coffee table. 

"3 minutes," Molly sat down on the couch without touching either the tea or Mycroft. She set the timer on her iPhone, placed the pregnancy test face down in the table between them then returned to her ball shape. 

Molly looked over at Mycroft as he sat on the other side of the couch. He was no longer looking at her but staring at the bookshelf across the room. She could see no hint as to what he was feeling. He didn't look happy. But then again he didn't look upset either. It truly looked like he would have no particular feeling until the result was known. 

Neither spoke because neither knew where to begin.

The timer on Molly's iPhone went off. 

She covered her face with her hands. "You look. I can't.” Molly had closed her eyes. She could feel Mycroft move closer to her and then reach for the stick. He sat back up and put his arm around her. 

Mycroft took a deep breath, "Here goes," he said quietly. 

And then silence. Mycroft didn't move. Slowly Molly opened her eyes and looked at Mycroft. His gaze was on the ground. "I'm sorry Molly," he said closing his eyes. 

Molly took hold of Mycroft’s wrist and turned it so she could see the test. It was negative. Waves of relief flowed over her. "Mycroft, hey, it's okay. You read the test wrong. One line means negative. I'm not pregnant."

"I read the test correctly.” Mycroft said quietly. “I’m sorry you’re not pregnant.” 

"Oh Mycroft," Molly whispered. She just sat there staring at him. This was so unexpected she didn’t know how to respond.


End file.
